


Already Married

by arlenejp



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-14 08:12:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13003539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arlenejp/pseuds/arlenejp
Summary: Who is already married?





	1. Wedding Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Mary and John's Wedding

What a beautiful day this has turned out to be! The sun is shining; it's a warm day in London.

* * *

I have to keep telling myself how lucky I am! To meet this delightful woman and fall for her in such a short time. And to have the same happen with her is a miracle.!

* * *

Mary is so lovely in her white gown, very simply decorated with a few beads and lace.

My best friend Sherlock Holmes and I are already standing at the altar as she walks down the aisle.

I'm beaming at Sherlock. He gives me one of his pleasant smiles. I have the feeling he's jealous. Jealous that married me will not spend as much time with him working on criminal cases.

I've assured him we'll still be together.

Once in awhile, when he thinks I'm turned away from him it seems he's sad.

* * *

Mary advances to me, and I take her arm, and we face the priest.

I'm lost in thought, my mind frazzled over the planning of this event. The last days a blur in my mind.

* * *

I vaguely hear the priest deliver in a monotone singsong tone.

          "If any of you has reasons why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."

I hear a rustling from the pews, and a familiar voice speaks up, "I do. Doctor John Watson is already married. To me!"

Holy shit! It's Major James Sholto. In all his military regalia!

He's waving a paper as he steps around people to gain access to the aisle and proceeds to us at the altar.

Mary is looking sideways at me. Puzzled! Believe me; I'm just as perplexed as she!

The priest takes the paper from James and shows it to Mary, myself and Sherlock.

What the fuck! It's real.

* * *

Mary lifts her gown, stalks out of the church with murmurs and everyone talking at once.

* * *

          "John, let's get out of here. Don't stop, don't talk to anyone. Don't listen to the chatter. Move!"

* * *

Grabbing my arm he hustles me, throwing off any onlookers as a linebacker would, out of the church.

Major Sholto follows, taking up the rear.

* * *

There's the limo sitting out front, Sherlock, without waiting, opens the door, pushes me in and in his deep baritone, says to James, "Get in."

He slides in and hits the driver on the back, "221B Baker Street, and hustle."

The driver turns to face us,"but I thought-"

          "Not interested. 221B Baker Street and step on it. Here come the curiosity seekers."

I'm situated between James and Sherlock and poke my head around to see all the people from the church approaching the car.

The limo speeds off.

* * *

          "No talking until we get inside the flat. Sherlock Holmes to you, Major Sholto."

* * *

Mary, where's Mary? What is she thinking? Am I honestly married? And to a man? My Major? Impossible! How, when, where?

* * *

Sherlock's hand stills mine, shaking on my thigh.

* * *

The limo pulls up, Sherlock is out and we follow.

* * *

          "Take off some of this garb and let's tackle the inevitable. Too bad Mrs. Hudson, oh I hear her on the steps," leaning down Sherlock bellows, "Mrs. Hudson, can you make us tea quickly?"

          "Of course Sherlock. That poor man, oh my," the agitation clear in her.

I'm locked in, standing in the middle of the room, not able to move. James at a loss, looking around.

          "Come here," Sherlock pushes me around to face him, divests me of the tie and loosens up my shirt. Then pulls off my suit jacket. All the while I'm like a rag doll. The noise of rattling dishes advances up the stairs.

          "Here you gentlemen go. There are tea and biscuits. They were to be for the after party-oh I've said too much."

          "Mrs. Hudson, we understand your distress. We all are."

Sherlock gently has her turned back towards the steps and as she leaves he shuts the door, with a bang, no less, and locks it.

          "Major Sholto, why did you wait until the service?"

          "Sorry, I got the invite late, got the first plane out, and a quick taxi to the church."

          "I'm assuming you know Major Sholto, John? John? Snap out of it."

Finally, something registers in my brain. I rise, pour some tea for all of us, giving Sherlock first and James last.

* * *

He's sitting on the sofa, on the edge, and I can see how difficult this is for him.

          "James, I'm befuddled. What-?"

          "You don't remember? That night? No, by the evidence around me, you have no clue."

          "Why don't you 'clue' both of us in?" Sherlock's voice rings out.

          "Let me start from the beginning. As to how John and I became,- acquainted," that slight stumble signifying a mouthful.

Taking my seat, still shaking with anxiety,"Let me tell you how James and I met."

James gives a shake of his head, letting me know to begin this tale. This story.

* * *

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
I had been on duty in Afghanistan only two months and hating every moment. Being a doctor I was at a makeshift hospital near the so-called front lines, seeing to all illnesses and all injuries. We had plenty of help and supplies to keep us going. 

* * *

One day I found us out of lorazepam, a drug used mainly for anxiety disorders and thought to take a jeep into town.

Just as I was jumping into the jeep a Major approaches.

          "Would you mind taking me with you? I have paperwork that needs to go to admin as quickly as possible."

          "Not at all. Hop in Major-?"

          "Sholto, James. And you're the doctor Sergeant John Watson."

The two-hour ride passed like a flash as we found ourselves sharing our love of rugby, James Bond and more.

          "Thanks for the ride. I'll be staying here for a week. When are you going back Sergeant?"

          "I was hoping to go back tomorrow morning."

          "Dinner on me then tonight? Say, seven at the officers club?"

I agree and head to the hospital to pick up the supplies needed.

* * *

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
In the midst of me spilling this out, my mobile beeps. It's Mary.

          "Let me take this please."

          "What the fucking hell? What is-"

          "Mary, Mary, hold up."

          "What do you mean, hold up, what am I supposed to do now? Married to a fucking man no less. Why didn't you-"

          "Mary, listen to me, stop shouting. Let me get a word in."

She hangs up.

I tap in her number.

          "You piece of shit. You-"

          "Mary stop."

Sherlock stands and snatches the mobile away from me.

          "It's Sherlock. Listen to me. Somehow John does not know how this happened. The Major is here divulging the facts. Give us some time to evaluate, and we'll call you back."

He stares at the black mobile and hands it back to me.

          "She hung up."

Taking the chair and some tea he hunches over, and with furrowed brows, "Continue your narrative."

* * *

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Dinner was again a lively affair between us. It was easy to see we were fast becoming good friends.

* * *

Dinner over, James offered that we retire into one of the many smaller rooms for drinks and dessert, and I accept.

The night became morning and we were still conversing, although the drinks were keeping us silly.

We finally had to admit that sleep was needed, and I had to get back to my post.

          "Are you going to be able to drive, you seem to drowsy for that."

          "You're right. Maybe a few hours sleep and then head back. I'll just bunk in one of the buildings.

          "Nonsense. Join me. I have a small flat I rent here in town. You can sleep there while I attend business.

We drive over to the small bank of apartments kept for the officers.

* * *

His flat is clean, with a bare amount of furniture. A large dark maroon sofa, chair and coffee table. The kitchen, though is a mess. Dirty plates, cups, pots are all over.

          "Excuse the mess here. I love to cook and do so frequently. The sofa opens to a bed if you wish."

          "I'll take the sofa, unopened. Just someplace to park for awhile."

* * *

He leaves me to lie down, and I hit the sofa, and before I know, sleep overtakes me.

* * *

I wake up and it's evening.

James is not in the flat and finding pen and paper I leave a thank you note and my cell number to call me.

* * *

For the next weeks, we are always together. Whether a movie, playing cards or sitting out watching the stars, we always have something to share.

* * *

When I get the notice that I'm being sent back to England my heart drops. I don't want to leave my new friend. But it's more than that. And it's that, that I'm afraid to voice. To even think about.

          "Okay John, a party, just you and me. At my flat."

A week before leaving I'm sent back to town to get my paperwork in order. Dinner with James.

          "I'll be so busy with everything James, that I think I can party with you the two nights before I go."

          "Good deal. I'll have drinks, cook dinner and we can chat into the wee smalls."

Yes, and it was the wee small that we find ourselves sitting, too much to drink on James' bed, shed of all clothes but our boxer shorts.

          "John, did you know I'm gay? I like men. I love men. I cherish men." 

* * *

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
My head jerks up, my mouth drops open, to suddenly understand that I have no memory of what occurred that night.

          "Jesus, don't tell me! Did I? Did we?"

James can only look down into his teacup. And he nods a yes.

          " Shit, fuck, hell!"

          "John-"

          "No, not a word from you Sherlock. Not a frigging word."

          "Continue where John left off, Major," Sherlock says in a low voice.

* * *

          "Yes, we had sex that night. No penetration. But we did everything else. Both of us enjoying the moments."

          "No, no, no. That's impossible. Can't be."

          "Yes, John, we did. It was wonderful. You didn't hesitate at all. I fell madly in love with you that night."

Running my hands through my hair, nerves all shot. Not wanting to look at either man. I was ashamed, embarrassed and disgusted with myself.

          "How did the marriage come about?"

Leave it to Sherlock to remain so calm.

* * *

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
John was still sleeping when I woke up. I have a tinny taste, and a coated tongue feel. Plus a headache. I know how he's going to be. I leave John with tea, water, and paracetamol to down.

And a note left on the table.

          'You're wonderful. Love you. Unfortunately, I had to leave for parts I cannot discuss. Keep in touch, my dear.'

And that was the last either of us saw one another.

* * *

At first, I emailed, texted and tried to call, but not a word.

John probably wanted nothing to do with me, after my confessing I loved him.

* * *

I did send a letter mailed from a post office in Africa months later.

* * *

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

          "Why did you disappear like that, James?"

          "The truth of the matter, the shame of it. We had been found out. The judge who married us that night told my commander, and he was swift in transferring me two days later. I had to keep my mouth shut."

          "I'm still confused. Married? When?"

          " During the night, both of us blottoed, you asked me to marry you. I told you to stop joking, but you insisted we wake the local judge and get married. And we did."

          " I remember nothing of it, James."

          "Obvious to me now. But when I left you I thought you remembered. I was informed my career was on the line and that getting in contact with you would be the end. The judge was paid off well. I kept the marriage license. Thinking someday I'd come to you and claim you. And then I get the invitation. And could not let this happen. That's why I came here."

* * *

Too much to take in too fast. The quiet in the room you could cut.

* * *

          "John, I can call Mycroft and see if he has connections and get the marriage annulled. It may take awhile. What do you say?"

          "I had sex with you? I enjoyed it?"

          "Very much so. Is that a surprise to you?" he chuckles.

          "A male. Me."

Realizing how that sounded to James I quickly check up.

* * *

          "No harm meant, James. It's just for years now, since I've been out of the service I've always declared myself straight."

          "That's a fallacy. What a shame you didn't recall any of it. It was a night to remember," a sad note in saying that.

          "Damn shit, James. I'm so sorry. Do you still feel that way towards- I mean are you in-," afraid to put a name to it.

          "Yes. It was in my plan to come to you in another year. When I was out of the Army."

He's been in control while telling this tale, but I can see he's holding back his tears.

* * *

Again the stillness in the room. No one venturing to say anything.

* * *

Sherlock stands up and faces toward James.

          "I suggest you go to your hotel. Let John, and I sort this out. Oh, I should ask you. Do you want an annulment?"

          " I have no choice. Yes, let me go now. Before-," and he chokes out the word. Sherlock unlocks the door, stands there and James rushes out. Not turning to me at all.

* * *

          " I suppose I should call Mary and let her know what's happening."

          "It's late John, and you're on edge. You take something to steady yourself and go to bed. I'll call Mary and Mycroft."

* * *

He embraces me, his arms warm and welcome. I take the steps to my bedroom as if I was drugged.


	2. The Annulment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mary furious, John upset, Sherlock-quiet

Down the steps from Johns room I know exactly who has entered the flat without a knock.

          "A fine mess younger brother," throwing a batch of newspapers on the table. All have lurid headlines of the wedding that never occurred.

* * *

Mycroft' s eyes turn up to Johns room.

          " I slipped something into his tea. He was so agitated. He'll sleep some more. Sit and I'll relate as much of this tale as I know. "

* * *

When done, Mycroft surmises there's more to this story than I'm willing to disclose.

          "I don't need any comments. You heard as much as I'm going to relate. I care about John way more than you can imagine. Can you help?"

          " Caring is not an advantage. John will never be other than a friend, Sherlock."

          " I will be with him no matter what he decides. My decision."

          "I can take care of the marriage but it will be months. They were married outside of the country."

Mycroft moves to me, places a hand hesitantly on my shoulder, it slides off and without us acknowledging anymore than that small show of affection, he takes off down the steps.

* * *

          _Mary, I'd like to meet. Discuss situation. Your flat?_

          _where's John. Too afraid to face me?_

          _John is too shaken to talk. We need to be practical. Let me do this for the both of you_

          _ok. Whenever you can get here_

* * *

A quick note dashed off to John only letting him know that I'm going out, not where and I hail a taxi.

* * *

Mary lets me in and without a word, no offer of tea, we sit in the living room.

          "For the benefit of both, I suggest no discussion with reporters."

I don't know where to start and neither does Mary. Quiet. Neither of us willing to broach the immediate problem.

* * *

Mary rises, and I hear Johns voice at the front door, loud, demanding.

He hasn't seen me as yet until he shoves the door open wide and stops short, to look from me to Mary.

There's fury written all over him.

          " Deciding my fate without me? Think I'm too stupid or not in my right mind?"

          "Calm down. Trying to do what's best. I didn't think you'd be awake so soon."

          " John you disgust me. How could you-?"

Rounding on me, fists clenched, stuttering words issue from him.

          "I suppose you think it's disgusting also. Shagging a man?"

          " I'm not judging. How are we going to work-"

          "There's no working it, Sherlock. I'm leaving, and John can have his Major or whoever."

The front door is swung open by her, as she stands there, arms folded.

          "Get out the both of you. Swing whichever way you want. But not with me around."

          "Mary, I'm sure Mycroft can fix this. It will take time."

          "Don't you get it, you stupid fool! I'm not interested in anything to do with you anymore. Get out! Get out the both of you," her hand gesturing out the door.

Sliding off my chair, reluctant now, knowing that Mary will never consent to listen to anything said about John, I take his arm.

          "Leave me alone," shrugging off my arm.

          "Do I have to call the police and have them throw you out?"

          "Don't do any such thing. John and I are leaving right now. Aren't we?"

Leaving him no time to protest I push, shove him out the door. He continues to fight me, throwing small punches at my body.

          "John, stop. Get a grip. Let's go home now. Mary is too upset to explore this any further."

I hail a cab and while inside John has his hands over his eyes. I know he's quietly crying.

How I did want to comfort him. But that won't happen. Not now.

* * *


	3. How To Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has to come to terms with sexuality.

It's been a rough week. I am still in shock over James' revelation. And Mary's reaction. Hers in particular.

* * *

I had thought Mary was more open-minded than most. But when it hits home I guess not.

* * *

          "John, why not meet up with Major Sholto. At least give him the courtesy of supporting him. He must be in a bad way also."

With a sigh, "You're right."

After speaking to James we've thought to meet for dinner that night. He has to leave to go back home.

* * *

We've agreed on a small Italian restaurant, a cozy corner table with some privacy. One that Sherlock and I have never been to. I was hoping for invisibility.

* * *

We've been seated at a table and the waiter brings the menu and before we can order, he states, "I'm so sorry to hear about your troubles. I can sympathize with you. I'm of 'that kind' myself."

And with a wink, changes the subject to the menu.

* * *

Ordering our food, James pulls out the bottle of wine he had brought with him.

* * *

          "It looks like you'll have to man up to this, John. Headlines like that don't go away that quickly. And of course, I'm so sorry about it.

          "Not your fault. You did the right thing."

Didn't want to say that I wish it had been done sooner. I'm still feeling the effects of not being with Mary. My sunshine girl.

* * *

The meal is silent. I suppose each of us reflecting on our own thoughts.

* * *

          "John, about what I said about loving you-?"

          "I understand. I wish it were reciprocal."

His elbows on the table, close enough to me to feel uncomfortable, he takes one of my hands in his. Holding it tight.

          "I'm going to enlighten you with a little story. It's a story of a man looking for love in the wrong direction."

          "No, I know what I-"

          "Before you pull your hand away, let me go on. You do not know what you want. What you truly, absolutely want. What you are missing is right under your nose."

          "I thought I knew-"

          "It's a story of missing details, missing the obvious. The looks, the taking care of, the small everyday smiles. And you keep ignoring it."

I try to pull away. He's got an iron grip on me.

* * *

          "It's time to look love in the eye. To say here it is. In whatever fashion it's shown up."

There's a pause as if he's waiting. Waiting for what I think.

* * *

Someone is behind me now. I can sense it. But James won't let me turn.

* * *

          "John Hamish Watson, here is your true love. The man who you adore and who adores you back."

* * *

James stands, leaves the table, not looking back as I call after him.

          "James, you didn't tell me who-"

          "No, John," I hear Sherlock's deep, deep pitched voice while he steps to the front of me, "he doesn't have to tell you. It's me."

Taking the seat that James just vacated, and taking up my hand, the one that James had held.

          "It's me, me who loves you with all my heart."

          "I'm not sure, Sherlock. I-"

Our eyes lock, his greyish green, mine blue, and I understand. I grasp, finally, that elusive something. 

That appeal this man has. The draw, the chemistry between us. It's love.


End file.
